I'm sorry, dear girl. I'd answer you, but that loud THUD was the sound of Aunt Celine's unconscious body hitting the floor. You unknowingly just rubbed my nose in the one thing I've been desperately hoping to prevent. Having failed to stop it, I was still quite happy to nurse denial, but alas, I can't avoid it. You aren't a little girl anymore.

However, having said that, let's have a little chat about that Facebook page, shall we? I want you to remove your last name, your birth date and age, the name of the small town you live in, and the name of your middle school. I would just as soon you not have that photo of your cherubic, sweet young face up there, but as long as you don't "friend" anyone you don't know VERY WELL, I'll compromise on that. On the other hand, I will NOT compromise on those two "Lover of the Day" applications that randomly assign you a daily sexual partner from your group of friends. Are you trying to kill me? Obviously, you are not allowed to have sex until you are 40 or I am dead, which ever happens second.